When Joe Biden seeks release from Washington pressures, he goes to his house in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. Donald Trump, of course, had Mar-a-Lago in Florida and even Richard Nixon had the “Western White House”, in San Clemente, California. Presidents often have places to go to escape.
Abraham Lincoln needed an escape more than anyone but his bolt hole was closer to home: a cottage at the Soldiers’ Home, on a hill north of the White House in Washington DC itself. It’s still there, a lesser-known historical site in the capital.
Callie Hawkins, chief executive of President Lincoln’s Cottage, a national monument since 2000, says: “At the height of the civil war, some of Lincoln’s close friends suggested he take a break, go somewhere else. And he said, ‘Three weeks would do me no good. This follows me wherever I go.’
“It would be natural to think of this place as a retreat of some kind. But in many ways, this place brought him closer to the war. He was surrounded by veterans who were wounded. At that time, they lived in the building next door. Just in front of us, about 200 yards away, is the first national cemetery. And then from the other side of the house, he could have looked out on to Maryland and Virginia, both slave-holding states. And so it was really a constant reminder, being out here, of reality.
“We’ll walk up to the statue, because I want to see how you stand up to Lincoln. You’re pretty tall yourself.”
I’m 6ft 4in but in his famous hat, Lincoln has me matched. The bronze, by Ivan Schwartz and showing the 16th president with the horse he rode to and from the White House each day in the hot months – June to November – was installed in 2008.
“It’s different in purpose to the Lincoln Memorial” on the National Mall, Hawkins says. “We wanted to push back against that idea that Lincoln can only be viewed from afar, as a figure larger than life, on a throne in a temple. Here, you can walk up and look him in the eye. And this is a view that many people who were part of this community, on the grounds of the Soldiers’ Home, would have had.”
The statue is the most obvious manifestation of Lincoln at the Soldiers’ Home. But his presence is evoked elsewhere.
From the terrace, where Lincoln played checkers with Tad, his son, visitors can look out as Lincoln did, down over Washington, to the Capitol, or out to Virginia and Maryland. Inside, the house is sparsely furnished, without attempt to recreate its look in Lincoln’s day. The result is strongly evocative. With the shutters closed, the study where Lincoln worked is dark. Next door, the drawing room is light.
“It’s pretty magical,” Hawkins says. “There’s this thing that happens to a lot of people when they come in the cottage. It’s one of those sensations you can’t quite describe, but we have done our best and call it the ‘Lincoln shiver’.
“It’s this full-body sensation as you are standing in this place and moving throughout these rooms, that Lincoln did the same at one of the most pivotal moments in American history. Added to that is that it’s a home, and homes are our most intimate spaces. You can just imagine Lincoln in his night shirt, or pajamas and bedroom slippers, moving about these grounds.”
Hawkins describes one such appearance by Lincoln, during an evening visit from George Borrett, a British traveler, in 1864.
“They brought them into this room and told them to have a seat. A few minutes later, Lincoln came walking through those folding doors.”
I turn, see the doors, and there it is: the Lincoln shiver.
There are other reasons for it. Lincoln and his wife, Mary Todd Lincoln, grieved here, after the death of their son Willie at the White House in 1862. Hawkins now oversees a striking exhibition about the Lincolns and grief, meant to help those grieving today. Other projects also seek to apply Lincoln’s legacy to modern problems. In January, Prison Reimagined will show portraits of presidents by incarcerated artists.
But Hawkins’s evocation of Lincoln, in the drawing room he used, remains extremely powerful, conveying the simple humanity for which Lincoln has long been loved but also his place as perhaps the most powerful expressor – and expression – of the American democratic ideal.
“His hair was ruffled, his eyes were sleepy, and his feet were enveloped in carpet slippers. He was essentially in his pajamas to greet people he had no idea were coming and who he did not know. Borrett said, naturally enough, the president asked about their travels. And then President Lincoln asked what I consider to be a really strange question. ‘What do you think of our great country?’
“This was a country that in 1864, at the time of their visit, was literally at war with itself. And Lincoln asked a stranger, ‘What do you think of our great country?’ It’s such a such an interesting question. I think it really demonstrates Lincoln’s love for this country, his hope for this country, and what he thought was possible.”
The conversation with Borrett happened the year after Lincoln wrote the Gettysburg Address: a short speech, at the site of the greatest civil war battle, that became a foundational text. Lincoln delivered it 160 years ago today.
My visit to President Lincoln’s Cottage is somewhat less momentous, an hour or so’s respite from reporting the politics of a country as divided as at any time since that civil war. But for those of us who ponder such problems daily, Lincoln’s conversation with George Borrett has more to offer.
“Lincoln started to talk about democracy,” Hawkins says. “This country being the last best hope of Earth. That if democracy didn’t take hold here, it didn’t have a chance anywhere.”
President Lincoln’s Cottage is open daily, with hourly guided tours
